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“It’s refreshing to hear you call them your house staff and notthe helplike my family does,” I admit.
“Well, that would be because the Italians see people as pieces on a chess board to move as they please.”
“The Irish Mafia are far from innocent,” I defend. “I mean, that is what you are, right? Irish Mafia?”
I take a hardy sip of my wine, already feeling more than buzzed from the first two glasses. I half expect him to deny my accusation.
“You’d be correct on both counts. I am Irish Mafia, and we aren’t innocent. We deal in sin, same as any other organized crime family,” he retorts. “But those under my charge, regardless of relation, are valued and appreciated. They’re never viewed as justthe help. They’ve pledged their loyalty and have kept our clan’s secrets. This affords them my protection and respect.”
“Does that include Fiona? You respected the hell out of her earlier,” I point out. Not to mention he has some entertainment plans for her later. I take another hearty sip.
“I don’t disrespect Fiona. I give her an outlet to express herself— her sexuality. She’s bound to this estate with no access to prospects to siate her desires. So tell me about the things you’re passionate about. What do you like to do—your interest?” he finishes, changing the subject.
The whiplash is strong with this one, but I entertain his questioning. “I will if you tell me your name. And I’m talking about your first name. Not that you’re not going to tell me anything personal about yourself, but if I’m sharing, can I at least have that?”
I’m more than prepared for him to withhold his name from me, but he’s being nice tonight, so I thought I’d give it a try.
“It’s Lennon,” he says matter of factly. “Now, back to my question about your interests.”
I don’t push for more. “ I love everything to do with art. I also enjoy ballet.”
“I got to see a bit of your ballet earlier. I was impressed.”
He shifts on the sofa and pulls me closer. My head is light, and my tongue is thick with so many more questions. I may not get this version of him again.
“Enough questions, my inquisitive little bird. I think it is time for the show, so no more Q&A.”
He reopens his phone and summons Fiona. She enters wearing a black leotard, fishnet stockings, and thigh high patent leather boots.That would never be confused with a maid outfit.My beautiful pervert scrolls through his phone until he connects to the app that plays music through the surround system. “Watch Me Burn” by Michele Morrone begins to fill the room, the show that he requested from Fiona now making sense.
Fiona steps on that stage before us, and gone is the timid girl who slips between shy and overtly confident with ease. Her moves are elegant and fluid, sexy and enticing. The familiar tingle throbs between my legs. I’m visually stimulated. The wine doesn’t help. The thoughts this man invokes within me are reprehensible. He squeezes my thigh, the bulge in front of his pants more than a little noticeable. He doesn’t take things further than this little show he has arranged for us, but the dull constant ache between my thighs is slightly disappointed.
When this abduction comes to an end, will I survive this? Will I survive him?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lennon
“Come in, Lennon,” Matteo encourages.
I was called to the Valentini house to help aid the efforts to find Matteo’s daughter. I look for any indications that he suspects me or our clan.
“How are you, sir?” I greet as I enter his office. His Sicilian heritage-inspired decor is quite different from the moody darkness of my home. My residences both, in the city and off the grid are black like my soul. What other man would agree to help a man find the very daughter that he has possession of? If he only knew all of the depraved shit I’ve already had her participate in and all the other things I have planned to bend her to my will.
“I’ve definitely seen better days. Surely, you know why your presence has been requested.”
I walk farther into the room and sit across from him on the caramel Italian leather sofa. “I do. Alessandro filled my brother in. You’d like assistance finding your daughter. Any leads thus far?”
“No. I’ve only managed to find out that Aurora has been sneaking out with the aid of our maid, Amerie. She finally came clean after us drilling the rest of the help on how Aurora could have gotten past them. Amerie has been fucking covering for her. Thanks to her, my little girl could be in grave danger after I’ve worked so hard to protect her.”
I could point out that she is far from being a little girl, but I opt for more intel. “Have you received any ransom notes or calls? Could she have run away from this life? Any friends that could be abetting her?” I fire rapid questions at him, supplying a different narrative that he may not have considered. I want him unsure.
He pushes off the sofa and begins to pace. “Nothing. And that’s what I’m afraid of. If this was about money, I would have heard something by now. It’s been over a goddamn week. Besides, how insane would a son of a bitch have to be to shake me down for money? My daughter is my world. When I find out who did this, there will be no mercy. They will pray for death.”
“Any friends?”
“She didn’t have any outside of the staff, and look how that turned out. I don’t think she would have run off, leaving Amerie in harm's way, which is exactly where she is at the moment. Amerie will endure pure hell everyday until my little girl is found. God forbid something happens to Aurora. Her life will end with my child’s. This is her fault.”
This information is helpful to know and can be potentially useful later as leverage with Aurora. Her father is torturing her closest friend for letting her sneak away. “I haven’t heard anything, but I will keep my ear to the ground to see if there is a mark or vendetta against your family. I know that not many is aware that you have a daughter so I won’t volunteer that information..”
